


revelations 2:13

by Elendraug



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Gen, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-14
Updated: 2011-03-14
Packaged: 2017-10-21 14:05:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/226017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elendraug/pseuds/Elendraug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And Andraste did say, "Those who harm a house of the Maker have done harm unto the Maker himself."</p>
            </blockquote>





	revelations 2:13

_And Andraste did say, "Those who harm a house of the Maker have done harm unto the Maker himself."_

* * *

The sky explodes with debris and flames, and Elthina lies dead amongst the charred rubble. All that remains of the Kirkwall Chantry has blasted apart into dust that settles into their hair, onto their clothes.

Meredith fixes him with a stare so full of hate, it's a wonder she hasn't felled him already. Has she forgotten that the Maker's beloved gave her life, as well?

There can be no change without sacrifice.

Orsino pleads with the Champion, pleads for a savior when he would find none within his broken Circle. They've all become so weak, so maddeningly submissive to their oppressors.

It makes him sick.

Anders removes himself from the ensuing conflict, his gaze focused on the gap in the skyline where the grand building once stood. It's surreal, like he's in the Fade, and this subpar construct of his sleeping mind will subside in a moment.

Hawke returns from the battle and seems torn between mercy and anger, but all too soon, the sympathy is gone. He has nothing more to say in his own defense; if no one can appreciate his life's work now, perhaps in a century's time the Shaperate will chronicle his tale when the surface of Thedas has long destroyed itself.

He folds his hands in his lap and keeps his eyes open, determined to stay aware of this forsaken, foreign place until it's all over.

The Champion's knife stabs cleanly through his ribcage, and he collapses to the ground. There is nothing to see but smoke in the distance, its acrid stench burning his lungs as he breathes his last.

Martyrs have no value alive.


End file.
